Four weeks out: get the house ready, not just the hospital bag
Most pre-surgery lists are about the hospital. This one is about the house you come back to. You will be moving slowly, told not to lift, and you will not want to negotiate stairs with a laundry basket.
Move what you use daily to waist height. Kettle, mugs, spare clothes, chargers, the remote. Anything you would normally crouch or reach for becomes a small argument with your abdomen for a while.
If the only bathroom is upstairs, decide now where you will spend the day. A chair with arms on the ground floor is worth more than a new dressing gown. Arms mean you can push up with your hands instead of bracing your middle.
Three weeks out: sort the bed and the chair you'll actually sit in
You will be getting up from sitting far more often than usual, and each of those movements is the exact moment a bladder tends to let go early on. Low, soft seats are the hardest. A firmer seat at a decent height is much easier to leave.
Try it now. Sit in your usual chair and stand up without using your stomach muscles. If you can't, that chair is going to cause you grief. Swap it, or add a firm cushion to raise the seat.
Do the same with the bed. Rolling to your side and pushing up with your arms is easier on you than sitting straight up. It is worth rehearsing a few times before you actually need it.
Two weeks out: put the laundry and cleaning plan in writing
Early leaking makes laundry. More than you expect. If you have never dealt with the washing in your house, this is a poor moment to learn while sore and tired.
Work out who does it, where wet things go in the meantime, and buy a lidded bin or a bucket for the bathroom. A spare set of sheets and a mattress protector on the bed saves a bad night from becoming a bad week.
Stock the cupboard: more underwear than you think you need, an old towel or two, unscented wipes, a barrier cream for the skin. Skin that stays damp gets sore, and sore skin makes everything else harder.
Two weeks out: tell the one or two people who will notice
You do not owe anyone details. But if you live with someone, or if a neighbour will see you shuffling to the car, a short sentence now saves a fortnight of awkward guessing.
Keep it flat and factual. You are having prostate surgery, you will be slow for a few weeks, bladder control takes time to come back. That is the whole conversation, unless you want more of one.
Decide too who you will call if you need help getting to an appointment or want someone to pick up shopping. Asking is much easier when it was arranged in advance and nobody has to improvise.
Also worth reading: 6 Things to Sort Out Before Prostate Surgery, in the Order They Matter · From Catheter Out to One Year: 7 Stages of Bladder Control, and What Each One Feels Like
One week out: plan how you get places without driving
You will not be driving for a while, and you may not feel like sitting on a bus. Work out your route to your follow-up appointment now, when you are calm and can read a timetable properly.
If someone is driving you, tell them the plan involves stopping. Knowing you can pull in takes the edge off the whole journey. So does an aisle seat, a short route, and going at a quiet time of day.
Think about the small trips too. The post box, the shop on the corner. Having one short, known walk you can manage gives you somewhere to go on the days you are climbing the walls.
One week out: decide what you're going to do with the days
Recovery is boring. Men who have nothing lined up tend to sit, brood, and measure every leak. Men with something to occupy them notice the weeks passing instead.
Pick things that need no lifting and no rushing: books, a series, a radio schedule, a jigsaw, phone calls you have been putting off. Put them within reach of the chair you chose in stage two.
Also plan the walking. Short, flat, frequent, as soon as you are told it is fine. Walking is the one thing that helps almost everything in the early weeks, and it is easier to keep up if you already know the route.
The last few days: get the pelvic floor work into your hands, not your head
If you have started training before surgery, good. The value now is not strength, it is that you know where the muscle is and what a proper squeeze feels like. After the catheter comes out, nothing about your body will feel familiar. That memory matters.
So practise the finding, not the grinding. A few gentle lifts, a clear sense of the muscle letting go fully afterwards. If you are not sure you have the right muscle, sort that out this week rather than after the operation.
Then write down, on paper, when you will train once you are home and cleared to start. Morning coffee and evening news beats any intention to fit it in somewhere. You will be tired and foggy, and a plan you can read is worth more than one you meant to remember.